


Can You Please Crawl Out Your Window?

by shugamonie



Series: I'll Never Get Over Those Blue Eyes [2]
Category: Bob Dylan (Musician), Jimi Hendrix - Fandom, Jimi Hendrix Experience
Genre: Dylix - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 09:40:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shugamonie/pseuds/shugamonie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months after that night/morning in England, Bob and Jimi meet again in Seattle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can You Please Crawl Out Your Window?

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to 'I'll Never Get Over Those Blue Eyes' if you haven't read that one yet, go do it.

Bob was sitting on the bed in his hotel room, listening to the radio and smoking a cigarette. He had a little smile on his face as he thought about Jimi and the night and morning they'd spent together. He's never slept with someone that he just met before. Let alone a _man_ he just met.

He'd have a smile on his face for a long time thinking about him.

Or at least he thought he would, until a knock on the door ruined it all.

 

“Who is it?” Bob calls, taking a drag from his cigarette.

The door opens and Bob is about to cuss the person out, before he sees that it's his manager Albert Grossman.

“Oh,” He looks away to the ashtray, putting his cigarette out. “Good morning, Albert.”

Albert closes and locks the door behind him, and slowly makes his way over to the bed where Bob sits. 

Bob's nervous now, thumb nail between his teeth.

“I'm assuming you had a good night?” Albert's voice is firm and mockingly accusing. 

Bob nods, chancing a glance at his intimidating manager, “The party was good, drank some good wine.”

Albert nods, “Yeah? And how about when you took that guy into your room?” 

Bob's heart begins to beat erratically, and he knows Albert knows.

But how? Did someone go and tell Albert that he'd brought Jimi to his room? Fucking assholes, it's none of their goddamned business to be going around telling his manager what he's doing.

“We just talked, Albert.” His blue eyes meet the pale messy blankets of the bed.

Albert crosses his arms, unimpressed, “Pretty sure I saw him walk out your door this morning, Bob. He looked rather...I don't know, like he just had the best fuck of his life.” He snaps, voice rising with his anger.

Bob feels helpless as he sits on the bed, feeling the burning of Albert's hard eyes on his face.

“You're just assuming things now, Albert. We smoked some marijuana, but that's it.” He goes to light another cigarette, wondering why he'd put out the other one. Probably in a nervous gesture as Albert walked in the door.

Albert steps a bit closer, examining Bob and his posture. That's when he notices 2 hickys on Bob's neck.

Albert feels anger rising in his body as he looks at those hickys, “So how do you explain those hickys on your fuckin' neck?” 

Bob's eyes go wide and he brings a hand up to his neck, covering the the deep red bruises. He looks away from his manager, “Th-those are from you--”

“No they're not.” Albert says lowly, threateningly, about 10 seconds from exploding.

 

 _Shit_. Bob thinks. _I'm done for now._

 

“You let that guy fuck you, Bob, I know you did. So stop trying to lie about it.” Albert is standing right over Bob now, and Bob is too frightened to move.

Bob is just afraid that he's going to get hit. He really doesn't want to make another lie about a bruise to his friends.

Bob gulps, suddenly wondering when he'd ever submitted to this asshole and let him control his life, “Okay I slept with him, alright? But so what, I can do what I want. You don't own me.” He has enough time to take one more drag from his cigarette before Albert has got him by the throat and is pinning him to the bed.

“Wrong, Bob. I do own you. And you _cannot_ do what you want.” He spits, and Bob's eyes are closed by now, not wanting to see this man so close to him when feeling him this close is enough torture.

“Open those pretty eyes, baby. Let me see your fear.”

Bob then brings his hands up to try and shove Albert off of him, but the man is simply too heavy, or Bob is too weak.

“Get the fuck off me, Albert or I'll scream.”

“You scream and I'll beat your ass.” 

“I don't fucking care!” Bob yells and then the wind is knocked out of him as Albert slams his fist into Bob's stomach.

Bob gasps and cries out in pain, trying to reach down to grab his stomach, but Albert grabs his wrists and pins them above his head.

“Don't you ever sleep with another man again.” Albert hisses and Bob is whimpering in pain, still trying feebly to get this man off of him.

“You're lucky we have to leave soon, otherwise I'd be fucking you right into this mattress to teach you a lesson.” He grabs Bob's ass and pinches harshly, and Bob cries out in pain.

Albert grins with a sinister chuckle before pressing his lips roughly against Bob's. Bob turns his head away, only to have Albert press his face into his neck, biting hard enough to break the skin.

Bob cries and pushes Albert away, “You asshole!” He shouts and Albert only grins, licking the blood from his lips.

He moves off of Bob and fixes his tie, “You've got 10 minutes to be down in the lobby.” He says before turning and leaving the room.

Bob quickly get's up and walks to the bathroom to inspect the bite wound in the mirror. Not too bad, but there is a little bit of blood. He curses out Albert under his breath.

He grabs a wash cloth and gets it damp with cold water before pressing it against the bite and the hickys.

He wishes he would have told Jimi not to leave any marks. He wasn't thinking at the time.

“I wish I could just...Run away from all of this and go find that guy.” He says to himself as he tosses the wash cloth aside and then leaves the room.

But life isn't that easy. He can't just run away from his problems like he did when he was a kid. Even then it didn't work. 

Jimi probably has a life anyway, he's gonna be a famous guitarist.

Bob smiles at the memory.

Bob just hopes that Jimi remembers him when he is famous. Maybe they could do a collaboration together.

Then Bob remembers that Jimi said he'd played some of Bob's songs. Bob was going to have to ask someone to get him those records so he could hear them.

 

Before Bob left the room to go down to the lobby, he popped some amphetamine and then lit a cigarette.

 

~.~.~

A few weeks later- Seattle, Washington.

Bob is on his US tour now, having finished the tour in England.

He sat in the back of the car, in between Albert and one of his buddies that travels on the road with him. Bob leans into his friend and whispers, “There's gonna be this new famous guitar player coming out in a few years, he told me he covered some of my songs. Not sure if he had them recorded but I'd love to hear them.”

“Well do you remember what his name was?”

“Jimi...” Bob for some reason can't remember his last name, “Jimi, he's a really handsome dark guy.”

“Let's see in a few years or months then.”

Bob looks out the window and nods, “Yeah let's see.”

 

As Bob is looking out the window, his eyes go wide as he catches sight of the person he was just speaking about. He's sitting out in front of restaurant with a friend and they're laughing and sharing a cigarette.

Bob sits up straight in his seat and yells for the driver to stop the car.

Albert complains and asks Bob why and Bob just glares at him behind his sunglasses and asks the driver to pull over again, this time his voice is lower.

Once the car is pulled over to the curb, Bob climbs over Albert and opens the door, all the while Albert is calling after him to get back in the fucking car.

Bob shuts the door behind him and keeps his eyes on Jimi as he walks down the street toward him.

Jimi hasn't noticed him yet, and he's about 20 feet away.

Bob calls out his name and can't keep the smile from his face as Jimi's head turns.

 

Jimi's grin is almost immediate and he flicks his cigarette aside, heading in Bob's direction, “Bob Dylan, back in the states now.”

“Yeah.” Bob smiles excitedly, also slightly nervous.

Once they reach each other, it only gets awkward, because Jimi wants to hug him, but refrains.

“How've you been?” Jimi says and Bob looks over his shoulder at Jimi's friend and gives the friend an apologetic smile for stealing Jimi away.

“Could be better.” Bob tells the truth.

He could really use a break from this touring. He's been touring since February, with only a little break in between his tour in England and US. It's July now.

“Oh yeah?” Jimi says, eyebrows knitting with concern, “What's wrong?”

Bob shrugs, and looks back the car he cam from. He can see Albert and his friend looking out the back window at him.

He just hopes that Albert doesn't remember Jimi's face. Although he probably does.

“I'm really exhausted you know? I've been touring for a while now. Still have a ways to go.” He fumbles with his fingers nervously, before fetching out a cigarette and lighting it.

 

Jimi purses his lips worriedly, “Managers got you workin' pretty hard don't he?”

“Of course.” Bob hisses in hate as he thinks of his manager.

“I'm sorry, Bob.” Jimi wants to reach out and comfort Bob, but this isn't really the place. “How busy are you? We can go somewhere to talk.”

Bob groans lightly as he looks down at the ground, “Pretty busy actually, I'm on my way to the next venue. I jumped out of my car because I saw you.” He almost blushes as he says it, and he sees Jimi grinning widely.

“How sweet.” Jimi says.

Bob laughs weakly, “I'd be doing a lot of unnecessary sitting around for hours though, so I've got time if you do.” 

“Good, have you eaten lunch yet?”

“No.”

“Wanna go get somethin'?”

Bob smiles, “Alright.”

 

Fuck Albert.

 

Jimi introduces Bob to his friend and his friend is a little bit starstruck by Bob but Bob only smiles.

But before Bob can walk off with Jimi, Bob's friend is jumping out of the car and calling to him, “Bob we have to go man, we need to go set up for the concert tonight.”

Bob looks to his friend, “You can set up without me. The concert is tonight, I've got plenty of time for myself.”

His friend shakes his head, “Albert said no.”

Bob grits his teeth, “Fuck Albert, I'll take a taxi.”

But Bob's friend is insistent, “He's gonna be really pissed Bob--”

“I don't care, I need a break. Tell him I'll take a taxi back.” Bob turns his back to his friend and smiles at Jimi and Jimi looks from Bob to Bob's friend.

“Are you going to get in trouble?” Jimi says lowly and Bob scoffs.

“That asshole doesn't fucking control me, come on.” He grabs Jimi's arm, trying to get him to walk the other way.

Bob doesn't turn around once, even as his friend continues to stand there watch him walk away, his mouth hanging open in shock.

“Didn't you say you were from here?” Bob asks as they walk, Jimi's friend tailing behind.

“Yeah.” Jimi says, “I was actually here visiting a sick family member, I leave tomorrow night though, to go record in England.”

Bob is surprised, “Really? Tomorrow?”

Jimi nods, looking down at Bob, “Yeah, and you know I actually planned on going to your concert tonight, but I wasn't sure if I'd get to spend any time with you alone like before.” he says the last part lowly and Bob smiles to himself.

“You can.” Bobs tells him, and Jimi meets his eyes, smiling.

“Good.”

 

~.~.~

 

They go back to Jimi's apartment, and Jimi's friend eventually splits because he had to go do something or another.

The second the door shut after Jimi's friend left, Bob pounced onto Jimi who sits on the couch with a guitar in his hands. Bob pushed the guitar aside and smashed his lips against Jimi's, wrapping his arms around his neck.

“Your manager is going to be so pissed.” Jimi whispers against Bob's lips and Bob groan at Jimi's words.

Bob sits back, “Who cares, it's not like I'm ditching the concert, I'll be there.”

Jimi smiles at Bob fondly, “I'm actually flattered that you ditched for me.”

Bob smiles back, “I've been thinking about you every day since you left that morning.”

Jimi looks a bit taken aback by that statement, “Really?”

Bob nods.

“I've been thinking of you too, Bob. More than I've ever thought of anyone.” He brings his fingers up to Bob's still extremely fluffy curly hair.

“That was a nice night...And morning.” Bob smirks suggestively wiggling his hips a bit, and Jimi agrees, bringing his hands down to rest on Bob's hips.

“I agree.”

 

They make out on Jimi's couch for a while, before Bob's tummy growls, and Jimi insists on letting him take Bob out for lunch.

Bob is quite adamant, “People will recognize me, man.” He says.

“Well just keep your sunglasses on and I'll go get you a hat and a big coat to put on.” Jimi stands from the couch and Bob grumbles, as he watches Jimi leave the room and then come back with a hat and long trench coat in hand.

“Why do you have a trench coat?” Bob wonders in amusement as Jimi hands it to him.

“It gets cold in Seattle.”

Bob hums as he looks at the fedora hat, “I'm going to look like a detective.” He puts it on his head and Jimi laughs at Bob's words.

“It looks fine, now with the jacket.” He motions.

 

Bob stands so he can put the jacket on, and he feels absolutely ridiculous, but it just might work in keeping his identity hidden from people.

 

As they're walking down the street in search of a good diner, Bob asks Jimi how he still has a place in Seattle even though he's barely ever there.

“Well notice it was very empty,” Jimi says, “It's just somewhere to stay for whenever I have to come back here. Also I've got some friends who stay there sometimes, when I'm gone.”

“So it's for everyone if they need a place to stay?”

“I guess you could say that. But we can't like, _live_ live there. But if we're passing through you know.”

“Oh yeah, I see.”

“I actually don't have to pay for it, I'm good friends with the landlord.”

“Oh that's convenient.”

“Isn't it?”

 

They find a diner, and take a booth way in the back where there aren't many people. 

Bob orders a salad and Jimi orders a burger and fries.

“Bob, don't you think you should eat something more...I don't know...Filling?” Jimi asks and Bob looks at him over his mug as he takes a drink of his tea.

Bob sets his mug down and licks his lips, “I'm fine with salad.”

Jimi looks slightly concerned, because Bob is a pretty skinny guy, “You haven't always been this thin, have you?”

Bob's face falls and he averts his gaze to look out of the window, “Don't worry about it.”

Jimi sighs and leans back, “Okay, Bob.”

Bob puts his glasses back on as the waitress comes around with their food, and the salad looks anything but appetizing to Jimi.

 

“Gonna order dessert?” Jimi asks Bob once they're almost done eating.

Bob shrugs, “Depends on what they have.” 

Jimi smiles, “Do you like pie?”

“Of course.”

“They've got really good pie here.”

“Okay.”

 

So they order some blueberry pie, and Bob tells Jimi that it was a good idea, “I take it you like it?” Jimi asks with a chuckle and Bob nods.

“So, got any song requests for tonight's concert?” Bob asks Jimi who then looks up in thought.

“Hm, I like that one from your new album, I think it's called 4th Time Around.” He looks at Bob for reassurance that that's the correct title and Bob nods with a slight smile.

“You like that one?”

“I like them all, but It'd be nice to see how you play that one live.”

“I'll play it just for you then.” Bob gives him a little smile and Jimi returns it.

“Thank you.”

 

~.~.~

 

They're back at Jimi's place now, and Bob managed to push Jimi into the bedroom 5 seconds after they'd entered the apartment.

“What time do you have to be to the venue?” Jimi asks between kisses as Bob holds him down on the bed.

Bob shrugs, “An hour or so, we have time.”

“Time for...” Jimi wonders and Bob rolls his eyes.

“Time to read the paper.” He mutters sarcastically, “Time for you to fuck me, what did you think?” He chuckles in amusement and Jimi grins widely.

“Just wasn't too sure what you wanted.” And he flips Bob over onto his back and slips between his legs, “But now that I know...” He moves his face into Bob's neck and kisses softly, “I'll fuck you, gladly, baby.” He says into Bob's ear and the noise Bob releases is one of the most beautiful Jimi's ever heard.

Albert isn't even on Bob's mind. He's not even thinking about how Albert probably knows exactly what Bob is doing right now. He doesn't care that Albert threatened him about doing what he's doing right now; fucking another man.

 

Bob digs his nails into Jimi's shoulder's as the younger man thrusts into him at an insanely quick pace. Bob's crying out loudly and throwing his head back, moving his hips down into Jimi's.

Jimi leans down to press his lips to Bob's and Bob kisses back fervently.

 

When they're done, Bob takes a 5 minute shower and quickly pulls his clothes back on, “I gotta go now, man.” He says to Jimi who's lying in the bed still, smiling at Bob pleasantly.

“I'll see you at the show.” Jimi says.

Bob smiles back, “See you.”

 

~.~.~

 

Bob walks into the backstage of the venue and there sit all of his traveling circus persons. Albert is the first person he meets eyes with, but Bob makes sure the gaze doesn't last. Albert looks beyond furious.

Yeah, he knows what Bob did.

Bob knows he knows. Albert knows Bob knows he knows.

 

Everyone is complaining at Bob for nearly being late and Bob blows them off and lights a cigarette. He grabs his harmonica and acoustic then begins going over the set list with Robbie.

“I'm gonna play 4th Time Around tonight, man.” He tells Robbie with a smile and Robbie asks him after which song.

“I wanna play it last.”

 

Eventually Albert comes over to Bob, and whispers into his ear, “You're in trouble, boy.”

Bob doesn't even look at him, he only takes a drag from his cigarette and crosses one leg over the other.

He's got 30 minutes until the show starts.

 

“Get up.” Albert says, and that's when Bob looks up at Albert who stands before him.

Bob looks none-too-pleased at being ordered around like some child, “Why?” He nearly snaps.

Albert scoffs at Bob's nerve to even ask, “Move your ass.”

 

Bob mutters a curse and stands roughly, pushing passed Albert who follows him out of the room. 

Albert quickly pushes Bob into another room and locks the door behind them, he grabs Bob and presses him firmly against the nearest wall.

Bob doesn't even flinch or try to push Albert off. He'd expected this.

 

“Are you even going to attempt to lie this time?” His manager's voice is low and to the point.

Bob's eyes are on the ground, “About?” 

Albert curls his fingers in Bob's suit and pushes him harder against the wall, “Don't play stupid with me, Bob.” Bob attempts to shove Albert off, but fails.

“Albert I don't belong to you, I'm not your property.” He brings his knee up to kick his boss right in the gut.

Albert grunts in pain and backs away. Bob uses that opportunity to exit the room before Albert can grab him back.

He goes back into the backstage, and can see some people giving him curious looks, “Why is Albert being so salty today?” He asks anyone who'll answer, although it was more of a statement.

“I think he's just pissed that you'd ran off.” Mickey tells him and Bob meets Mickey's equally light eyes, wondering how he'd even found out about that. He wasn't there.

God did everyone know?

Well let's just hope they didn't know that he'd ran off with a guy.

 

Bob sits in the corner of the room, harmonica sitting on his shoulders, while the rest of his friends and band mates stand around, getting pumped. His eyes are fix on the far wall, to avoid Albert's eyes in case he walks in.

As he sits there, Bob can't help thinking that he'd love for Jimi to be with him right now, to give him a kiss or hug before he went up on stage. To wish him luck and tell him the crowd is going to love him. 

He lights a cigarette and smokes it slowly, until Robbie is tapping on his shoulder, telling him that it's time for them to go on now.

Bob pops some amphetamine, and then stands up from his chair.

 

Bob is a bit more excited for this performance than any of the ones in the past, mainly because he knows Jimi is there somewhere in the crowd, watching him with a smile on his face.

But it also makes Bob slightly nervous, because he really doesn't want to fuck it up.

He's got his guitar hanging from his neck, as he walks onto the stage, and the crowd begins applauding when they see him.

He doesn't smile or even look at the crowd, he just walks up the the microphone and turns to Mickey who sits at the drums, then he looks to Robbie and Garth as they all begin kicking in with the first song of the night, 'Tell Me Momma'. At first they're all just dinking around on their instruments, until Robbie begins strumming the first few notes, then they all chime in and Bob looks around at all of them as they all join in, before turning to the microphone to begin the lyrics.

The concert goes by fairly quickly, and Bob is sweating pretty good by the time it's over. He gives his all into 4th Time Around, hoping Jimi knows it's just for him. 

When he's done he quickly rushes off the stage to go find Jimi, not even caring about the people who are waiting to push him into the car and head to the hotel.

He has to find Jimi first.

As he walks off the stage, he heads in the opposite direction that everyone else is going. He nearly jumps with excitement when he sees Jimi round the corner, looking around until he's looking in Bob's direction and sees Bob is already walking toward him.

Jimi smiles and before he can say anything, Bob's grabbing him and pulling him around the corner, leaning up on his tip toes to plant a kiss onto Jimi's full lips. He pulls away quickly, checking his surroundings, “Come on, we gotta go.” He begins walking in the other direction, that his band mates had gone.

Jimi follows Bob, “Where are we going?”

“To the hotel,” He turns to meet Jimi's eyes, “You do want to spend time with me right?” He stops walking for a moment, paused by the sudden thought that Jimi may have somewhere else to be.

“Of course but--”

Jimi's cut off by a voice calling Bob's name, and Bob turns his head to see who it is.

It's Robbie and he's motioning Bob forward with his fingers urgently.

“The cars are about to leave, Bob. We gotta go.”

Bob nearly groans, “I'm not riding with salty Albert.”

Robbie rolls his eyes and Bob looks back at Jimi, who's got his eyebrow raised in confusion.

“You don't have to ride with Albert, come on.” He motions again and then turns around to head back out.

“Well my friend is coming.” Bob calls and Robbie just waves him off, disappearing around the corner.

 

“Come on, Jimi.” Bob grabs the sleeve of Jimi's shirt and begins walking quickly down the hall, hoping Jimi will keep up.

Once they're outside, they have to rush through an annoying flurry of people, and Bob keeps hold of Jimi's sleeve until they're inside the back of a car with Robbie and Mickey.

Mickey is more than confused at the black man held tightly at Bob's side, with a fro almost like Bob's himself.

Mickey looks at Robbie, hopeful of an explanation, but Robbie just stares off at nothing behind his dark glasses obviously not in the mood.

Bob puts on his glasses too and shuts off the light that's on above them, so he can hold Jimi's hand in the dark.

He doesn't care if Robbie and Mickey don't think Jimi should be here, he's Bob Dylan and he'll do whatever the fuck he wants.

 

~.~.~

 

As they wait in the lobby to get room keys and numbers, Bob stands off to the side with Jimi, whispering to him. Jimi is just standing there sort of awkwardly, knowing that all of Bob's people must be wondering what the hell he's doing with Bob. He sort of wishes Bob would tell them what's up, so they wouldn't have to give him that look anymore.

Bob just brings a hand up to Jimi's arm and tells him not to worry, even his manager can't do anything about in front of all of these people.

That doesn't help chill Jimi out, he leans into Bob and whispers back, “You're testing him Bob, I bet he's boiling right now.” They both sneak peeks over at Bob's manager who stands at the front desk, speaking to the desk clerk.

“He probably wants to kill me.” Jimi says and Bob shakes his head, pressing the tips of his fingers to his lips as he watches Albert.

“He needs to learn that he doesn't own me, especially my body.” Bob says back and Jimi looks at him seriously then.

“He thinks he owns you?” Jimi asks, concern lacing his voice.

Bob shrugs, “Says I'm not allowed to sleep with any other man but him.”

Jimi scoffs, “You told him off right?”

“I always do.”

Jimi grins, “That's my Bobby.”

 

Robbie comes over to Bob moments later, telling him that there will be a party going on his his and Mickey's hotel room tonight, if he wants to bring his friend along.

Bob smiles at the fact that Robbie acknowledged Jimi, “Yeah sure man, we'll be in there after I shower.”

“Well your friend can come while you shower and you can meet him at the party.” Robbie suggests casually, and Bob suddenly blushes as he realized what he'd said.

“Sure if Jimi wants to do that.” Bob looks to Jimi, who's nodding, understanding that they should keep their relationship a secret.

“Groovy, so what do you do, Jimi?” Robbie asks, leaning up against the wall next to Bob, so they both stand in front of Jimi now.

Jimi looks from Bob to Robbie, and Bob is smiling a little, “I play electric guitar, and so do you from what I saw at the concert, you're good, man.” He compliments Robbie, who smiles.

“Well thanks. You should play something for us at the party. We've got some acoustics.”

“Yeah that could be cool.” Jimi agrees.

Robbie nods, then holds out his hand toward Jimi, “Robbie.”

Jimi takes the tall mans hand, “Jimi.”

 

Albert walks over to the 3 of them, keys in his hand. His eyes are fixed on Bob, even as he hands Robbie his key. Bob locks eyes with Albert as he takes the key from his fingers.

“Going to the party, Bob?” He says with false interest.

Bob shrugs, “If I don't pass out before I get there, I'm pretty beat.” He fiddles with the key a bit and bites his lip nervously, “You?”

“Maybe for a little while.” His spins his key on his finger, “You guys get some good rest tonight, we have to be gone before noon.” Then he's turning and walking away.

Bob nods Jimi over to the elevator and Jimi looks at Robbie, who's walked over to Mickey, “Wasn't I supposed to go with him first?”

Bob presses up on the elevator and waves Jimi toward him urgently, “Hell no, you're coming with me.”

Jimi can't help laughing a bit as Bob grabs him and pulls him onto the elevator, pressing the close doors button right away.

“I just ditched your friend.” Jimi says and Bob takes Jimi's hand in his tightly.

“He'll live.”

“Well did you even want to go to that party?” Jimi wonders.

“We can if you want to. I just want to spend every second with you before we have to part tomorrow.”

That makes Jimi's heart nearly leap in his chest, as he'd never imagined he'd be in this deep with Bob. He only ever intended to speak to Bob that first night they'd met, he could never foresee them ever ending up like this.

They get to the room, and Bob locks the door behind them, “I'm going to take a shower, order anything you want, just gotta use that phone.” He motions to the phone on the nightstand by the bed, “Oh and, they're going to come up with my bag, just take the bag and bring me some clothes, would you?” he begins unbuttoning his shirt, as Jimi takes a seat in one of the chairs, watching Bob with an appreciative smile.

“Sure thing, baby.” He says smoothy and Bob grins at him.

“Okay, man. I'll be out soon.” He heads into the bathroom, shutting the door.

Jimi doesn't order anything, he just turns on the TV and sits there watching it without interest, his mind is fixed on Bob. Pretty, skinny, and talented Bob.

Bob must really like Jimi. I mean, he pulled over the car when he'd spotted him on the street, and took him to the hotel with him after the concert, with no questions asked.

 

Jimi smiles sadly, knowing they're going to have to part tomorrow.

They'd have to make this night special.

 

There's a knock on the door, and Jimi answers it, and it's the bellhop with Bob's bag.

The bellhop looks at Jimi strangely, and Jimi tells him that Bob is in the shower.

The bellhop nods and sets Bobs bag by the door, and Jimi nearly groans as he has to tip the man.

 

He shuts the door after the guy and then sets to find Bob something to wear.

He picks out some white and navy blue striped skinny jeans, and a regular black t-shirt. He hopes it's right. Oh yeah, boxers too.

Jimi has to grin as he goes through the bag until he finds a cute pair of red and white striped short boxers.

He gets up and walks to the bathroom door, giving it a light knock, hoping Bob heard it over the running shower water.

“You don't gotta fuckin' knock man.” Bob calls, and Jimi laughs as he opens the door, seeing Bob standing there in the shower, the curtain pulled back halfway.

Jimi's jaw goes slack as he looks at Bob, who's big curly hair is down and wet and dripping over his shoulders.

His body is small and thin, but not grossly. 

Bob sees Jimi staring and he blushes shyly, “You can set the clothes on the sink.”

Jimi shakes out of his daze and contemplates getting in the shower with Bob after he's set the clothes aside.

He smiles at Bob and goes to sit down on the toilet lid, he watches as Bob rubs shampoo into his hair, eyes closed so he doesn't get soap in them.

“Jimi are you still there?” He asks with a slightly playful tone, and Jimi's grin grows.

“Yes.”

“What are you doing?”

“Watching you, baby.”

Bob smiles and begins washing the soap from his hair, “Just come join me.”

 

Jimi head is nearly spinning with lust at Bob's words, “How could I turn that offer down?” He begins unbuttoning his dark purple suede suit jacket, and Bob watches him as he continues to wash at his body.

By the time Jimi steps into the shower with Bob, he's already got Bob pinned against the wall and is kissing all over his chest and neck, milking lovely moans from Bobs throat.

They manage to fuck against the shower wall in the span of 20 minutes, with Bob's legs wrapped tightly around Jimi's waist, finger nails scratching down the tile walls before digging into Jimi's back.

Bob has to wash off again after that, and then they step out of the shower, dry off and get dressed.

 

“You didn't order any wine or anything?” Bob asks Jimi once they reenter the room.

“I didn't know you wanted me to.” Jimi takes a seat on the edge of the bed.

Bob grabs his cigarettes and goes to light one while he picks up the phone to order them some wine. He holds out his cigarettes to Jimi who takes one and lights it with his own lighter, before handing the pack back to Bob.

“Hello, yes...Could you bring us up some wine?...I don't care, whatever kind you've got...Alright...Yeah...Thanks.” He hangs up the phone and smiles at Jimi, “Wine should be here soon.”

Jimi watches Bob take a hit from his cigarette, and exhales his own smoke before saying, “What about that party, Bob?”

He gets up to go grab his towel so he can dry his hair off better, “Oh I know man, we're still gonna go, I just wanna get this wine first, so we can have it when we get back, you know.” He says and then drops the towel to go to his bag for his amphetamines.

He takes 2, while Jimi watches him with a raised eyebrow, “You take uppers, Bob?”

Bob looks at Jimi, almost shocked that he'd just assumed it was amphetamine, “That's not what that was.”

Jimi narrows his eyes and crosses his arms, “Oh it wasn't now? Well what was it?”

“Something for my headaches.”

“Oh alright then, let's see how you're acting in a few minutes.” 

“Hey, fuck you.”

“I believe you just did, in the shower.” Jimi smirks, and Bob looks away from Jimi, not really in the mood for any jokes now.

Jimi senses this.

“Aww come on now, baby. You know I didn't mean any harm.” He gets up to walk over to Bob, who now leans against the windowsill, smoking his cigarette with his head down.

“Don't worry about what I'm taking, Jimi okay? I take it to help me, lots of musicians do.” Bob mumbles and Jimi stands in front of Bob now, bringing a hand up to Bob's defined cheek.

“Just be careful.”

“Don't worry.”

“Hey, don't tell me not to worry, I have every reason to worry about you--” Jimi argues and Bob cuts him off.

“--Okay, okay, okay, yeah.” 

Jimi leans in and kisses Bob's neck, and then there's a knock on the door.

 

Once they've got the wine, Bob sets it on the coffee table and they leave for the party down the hall at Robbie and Mickey's room.

There's already music coming through the door before they even knock on it, and Bob looks over at Jimi, smiling lightly, and Jimi smiles too, reaching over to knock on the door. Hopefully it was loud enough.

The door opens moments later and Robbie appears with a wineglass in his hand, he grins at both of the men, “Well I'd wondered where you ran off to, come in.” He moves back from the door to let them enter, before shutting the door behind them.

Almost instantly, people begin approaching Bob and telling him he did so well tonight. He thanks them, while leading Jimi through the room over to where the wine and glasses are.

But before they can even pour themselves some wine, Robbie is shoving an acoustic into Jimi's hands and Jimi looks up to meet Robbie's eyes, who's smiling politely.

“Let's hear it then.” Robbie says, and Jimi looks down at the guitar in his hands.

“Okay man, let me get some wine first, alright?” He takes the glass the Bob offers him and Robbie nods in understanding.

Jimi stands over Bob who leans against the wall, as they both drink their wine, “I usually drink harder stuff.” Jimi motions to his glass with a wholehearted laugh.

“Oh, not me. I'm fine with wine.”

“I'll remember that.” Jimi says in his ear lowly before backing up so he can finish off his wine glass and go play this acoustic for Robbie.

 

Jimi takes a seat on a spot on the couch and begins playing some improvisation, but everyone is pretty stunned nonetheless. Including Bob.

It's a jazzy sounding tune, that would probably sound even better on an electric, but there's also something so unheard of in his style, like something that they'll be hearing more of in the future.

Yeah this cat is gonna be famous.

 

When he's done, everyone is clapping and he's glad that he was able to impress Robbie.

When he meets Bob's eyes though, he could say fairly that he was more happy that he was able to impress him.

Although Bob looks more amazed than impressed.

 

It means the world to Jimi.

 

While Jimi sits there, getting his head talked off by the other musicians in the room, Bob goes over to pour himself some more wine. 

He sits in a chair in the back of the room and lights a cigarette. He brings his feet up the edge of the seat, digging in the heels of his boots.

Of course people come to try and talk to him, and he does, but he doesn't give much effort in the conversations. 

He's just glad Jimi is having a good time, and that people are interested in him.

 

Bob wants to shoot himself the instant he sees Albert walk through the door with the road manager.

_Just leave me alone Albert, I'm minding my own._

 

Bob averts his gaze to the floor so Albert doesn't try to meet his eyes. He takes a drink of his wine and makes sure to keep his eyes to himself.

 

Most everyone is busy with Jimi and so Bob doesn't have to worry about anyone annoying him too bad tonight. Albert however had obviously only come in to check how things were going, because he's gone now as Bob looks around.

Or at least he thought, until a voice behind him begins speaking right in his ear.

“You are sleeping with me tonight, Bobby.”

Bob spins around almost instantly and shouts in Albert's face, “Like hell I am!”

 

On queue, everyone has looked up from Jimi's fingers on the guitar, to Bob and Albert in the far corner of the room.

 

Bob clenches his teeth, “Everyone just go back to what you were doing.” He says firmly and they all turn away, except Jimi, who's got his eyes locked with Bob's, wordlessly asking what the shouting was for.

Bob glances his eyes to Albert for a second before returning them back to Jimi's, and Jimi gets it.

Albert, his manager, is being an asshole again.

 

“Sorry guys,” Jimi hands the guitar back over to Robbie, “I gotta go see what's up with my friend.” He stands from the chair and ignores the calls from the people he was just entertaining.

 

Jimi can see Albert kneeling next to Bob who sits in a chair by a lamp in the far end of the room, and he's actually a bit nervous to intervene, but Bob needs his help.

As he gets closer, he sees that Albert has got Bob's skinny wrist in one of his hands, and isn't letting it go.

 

He's whispering to Bob, who smokes nervously, and Jimi can't hear anything he's telling Bob.

Before Jimi can even do anything about it, Albert is practically yanking Bob from the chair and pulling him toward the door. Jimi calls after him, even running after them, but Albert shuts the door on Jimi's face. 

Jimi looks to see that no one was really paying attention, but moments later Robbie is asking Jimi if he wants to play more guitar. 

No one even saw Albert pull Bob out of the room so viciously?

Must be too high and drunk.

 

“No man, I gotta go.” Jimi pulls open the door and quickly closes the door behind him. He looks up and down the hallways, not seeing Bob or Albert anywhere.

“Bob.” He calls out.

 

He's probably already got Bob in one of the rooms.

 

“Dammit.” Jimi cusses under his breath.

He should have never left Bob's side.

 

What the hell is he going to do now? He has the key to his and Bob's room in his pocket, because Bob told him to hold it. 

But why would he go to the room unless Bob was with him?

Jimi groans, really wishing he could punch Bob's manager right in the face.

 

~.~.~

 

“What did I fucking tell you!?” Albert shouts into Bob's face, pushing Bob harshly against the wall.

Bob pushes Albert back away from him, “I don't care what you said.” He snaps, crystal blue eyes piercing into Albert's dark ones.

Albert only smirks, “I love that fight in you.”

Bob's eyes narrow, “I'm not sleeping with you tonight.”

“Like hell you're not, I'm not letting you fuck that guitar player anymore.”

“I'll fuck who I _want_ , and I'm not letting you boss me around anymore.”

“Like you've got a choice.” Albert grabs the collar of Bob's t-shirt and pushes him down onto the bed, “You'd be nobody without me, Bobby. Face it.” Albert climbs over Bob, pinning him down to the bed and Bob tries getting Albert off of him, and when he goes to kick him like before, this time Albert was prepared for it. He grabs Bob's knee before it can come in contact with his stomach, “None of that.” He pushes Bob's knees apart and settles in between his legs.

Bob struggles, thrashing against Albert as he begins undoing Bob's pants and tugging them down slightly, before Bob punches Albert right in the cheek and Albert is disoriented for a few moments, “God dammit.” He hisses, grabbing his now sore cheek, “Do it again and see what happens.” he threatens.

Bob hesitates on pulling his fist back to land another.

He's thankful the last punch Albert landed on him didn't leave a bruise, but he couldn't be too sure about this next one.

“Just...Please, I don't want this.” He tries, and Albert shakes his head.

“You need a reminder of who you belong to.”

“I don't belong to you!” Bob shouts and that's when Albert yanks Bob's pants all the way down, and tosses them aside, before pressing his lips against Bob's firmly.

Bob struggles under Albert, not punching or kicking, just trying to push him off and away from him. But Albert doesn't let up.

Once Bob's pants are off, Albert wastes no time in reaching his hand up one of the pant legs, causing Bob to squirm even more than before.

“Don't.” Bob says breathlessly, as he feels Albert's fingers already poking at his entrance. Albert pushes in his middle finger quite easily, and Bob wants to roll over and die.

“Jesus Bob, you've been letting him fuck you a lot, haven't you? And recently. You're loose as a 2 cent whore.” He laughs a bit under his breath and Bob cusses him out.

“Fuck you.”

“He must have a really big dick. Does he Bob? Is that why you're fucking him? Because he's got a nice big cock for you?” 

Bob can't hold it back any longer, he punches Albert again, “Just shut up!” He shouts, anger burning fiercely inside of him.

Albert grabs both Bob's wrists in one hand and presses them down to the bed above his head, “I warned you.” And he swings his fist back, slamming it into Bob's stomach.

The wind is knocked out of Bob, and he groans in pain, letting his eyes fall shut.

 

He does everything he can not to respond to any of the soft touches Albert places on his body, and as Albert fucks him, he tries to hold back any sound or movement.

He's not going to give Albert the satisfaction.

It's not easy though, because once upon a time he actually enjoyed having sex with his manager, until his manager started getting crazy and possessive.

Albert knows what Bob likes, and he's giving all of it to him, and Bob is having a hard time resisting.

“Aww come on Bobby, just enjoy it,” He leans down and kisses Bob's neck.

“No,” Bob grits, “I don't want this.”

“But your body does.” He whispers into Bob's ear and Bob jerks his head away.

~.~.~

 

Jimi sits on the bed in his and Bob's room, staring at the TV with boredom.

He knows Bob probably won't return to the room tonight, but he knows he'll have to return eventually, because his bags are in here still.

Jimi is so very bored.

He's got weed hidden in his pocket that he really wants to smoke, but he was saving it to smoke it with Bob.

If Bob ever fucking returned tonight.

Stupid Albert.

Bob needs to get away from that guy.

 

~.~.~

 

Bob waits until Albert has fallen asleep, then he slips out of the bed and heads to the bathroom to take a quick shower, so he's not all cover in Albert's scum when he returns to his room.

Bob is really worried that Jimi might have left, but Jimi has the key, so Bob thinks there's a good chance Jimi will be in there.

He washes all of Albert's come from inside of him, until he knows there's no more traces left, then he scrubs at his body, disgusted with himself for letting that happen.

 

His 3rd shower of the day, after his 3rd fuck of the day.

Jesus Christ.

 

He puts his clothes back on, and then leaves the room as quietly as he can, eyes on Albert the whole time until the door is shut and he's fast walking down the hallway toward the room that he's hoping Jimi will be in.

 

~.~.~

 

Jimi is nearly stunned from his thoughts at the sudden sharp knocking on the door.

He gets up from the bed quickly and unlocks the door before throwing it open.

Bob quickly moves past Jimi and into the room, and Jimi closes the door, lightly, watching as Bob moves to sit on the edge of the bed, putting his face in his hands.

Bob was gone for over 2 hours, and now he's back, and in a completely terrible mood.

“Bob, what did he do?” Jimi says gently, walking over and sitting next to Bob on the bed.

Bob shakes his head in his hands, and Jimi can hear Bob sobbing.

“Shit.” Jimi wraps his arm around Bob, pulling Bob against his body, “Come on, baby. Let's lay down. I rolled a joint for us.” He helps Bob under the covers and reaches in his pocket for his lighter, “First hit?” he smiles at Bob's crying face, reaching over to wipe a tear from Bob's precious cheek.

So Bob takes the first hit, and then passes it to Jimi, resting his head on Jimi's shoulder as they snuggle under the warm covers, tuning out the sounds of the TV in the background.

Bob asks Jimi to pour him a glass of wine, and so Jimi gets up and pops open the wine. He pours them both some before getting back in bed with Bob, handing him his glass.

Bob downs his pretty quickly and Jimi takes a few drinks before setting his glass aside on the nightstand before getting back to the joint.

“I love you, Bob.” Jimi says honestly as he exhales his smoke, and Bob almost gasps, looking up to meet Jimi's eyes.

Jimi hates seeing Bob cry, tears in his beautiful light blue eyes and on his soft boney cheeks.

Jimi places his hand on Bob's cheek and leans down to kiss him.

Bob immediately wraps his arms around Jimi's neck and pulls him down on top of him.

“Woh baby, baby, the joint.” Jimi is trying to keep the joint from touching the blankets, and Bob snatches it from Jimi's hand and puts it out in the ashtray on the nightstand, before bringing Jimi down for another kiss.

“Get in me now.” Bob whispers, “Now, now.” he moves his arms from around Jimi so he can pull down his pants.

Jimi is a little bit taken aback by Bob's urgency, “Hey, slow down, babe.”

“I don't want to feel him anymore, I want to feel you.” Bob cries, tugging at Jimi's jeans, “Please.”

Jimi stops Bob's shaking fingers at his jeans and takes Bob's hands in his tightly, looking Bob directly in the eyes, “What did he do?”

Bob shakes his head, “We had sex,” He cries, “I can still feel him, you have to take that feeling away.”

Jimi grabs Bob's cheek between his hands, kissing his lips gently.

“Don't worry, I showered for you, got myself all clean. There's no trace of him left.”

Jimi is sympathetic toward his beautiful lover, “Then why do you want me to have sex with you?”

“Because,” Bob is sobbing again, grabbing desperately at Jimi's hands, “I can still feel him inside.”

“Okay, Bob. And did you hear what I said earlier?” He looks into Bob's eyes, and Bob only sniffles, “I meant it.” Jimi finishes.

Bob nods, looking from Jimi's eyes, “Thank you, I believe you.” he whispers.

Jimi kisses Bob's temple, “You're the best person I've ever met, and I love you already. Stay with me forever.” He pulls Bob close, running his fingers through Bob's hair.

“I'm going to leave the tour, I'll fake an accident or something, take a break.” Bob says and Jimi nods in agreement.

“Come to England with me.” He says in a pleading tone.

 

Bob smiles,“Okay, I will.”

~.~.~

So apparently Bob got into a motorcycle accident, and was taking a long long break from touring. They canceled the rest of his world tour and he went to England with Jimi, and watched Jimi perform in the studio, and even in clubs for audiences. He didn't know that Jimi was already pretty popular, and his popularity was growing fast.

Of course people would come up to Bob and ask him what happened to his tour, he'd just say that he needed a break.

He slowed down on the amphetamines, and added about 10 pounds onto his unhealthy 110lbs weight. Still too skinny for Jimi to get off his case about eating filling foods, but it was progress.

They'd almost got caught fucking backstage once. Good thing they were up against the wall by the door , because once the door peeked open, Jimi slammed it shut and locked it before the person could see anything.

Bob was convinced who ever it was had heard them anyways.

“They probably thought I was just fuckin' some broad, don't worry about it.” Jimi told him and Bob slapped Jimi's arm, slightly offended.

“You saying I sound like a girl?” He snaps, shoving Jimi playfully.

Jimi grins and grabs Bob's cheek, leaning in to kiss him, “Only when I'm fucking you.”

“Oh, well I'll be sure to watch my voice next time.” Bob moves to open the backstage door, running out and Jimi chases after him.

“No babe, I like the way you sound!” He calls after a giggling Bob as they run past people in the hall.

Bob is the happiest he's been in a long time, and Jimi is happy he was the one to make that so.

THE END


End file.
